


Greek

by haiplana



Category: Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Angst, Competition, Dubious Consent, Dubious Morality, F/F, F/M, Fluff, Fraternities & Sororities, Hazing, Sabotage, Smut
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-06-27
Updated: 2019-06-27
Packaged: 2020-05-28 05:27:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 11,119
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19387432
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/haiplana/pseuds/haiplana
Summary: King’s Landing University is the premier university of Westeros, only accepting the most elite of applicants. At KLU, the most important activity of them all is Greek Life. Each year, the Houses vie for the top spot on KLU’s Greekrank Tier List that comes out at the end of the spring term — based on who has the best parties, the highest recruitment numbers, and, most importantly, who wins at the end of Sigma Chi’s Greek Week.The Starks have long controlled Kappa Theta Mu and Psi Epsilon Mu, now known as House Stark, and it is expected that freshmen Sansa and Arya join. However, Sansa has been eyeing House Lannister’s Kappa Iota Gamma sorority. Will Sansa stick with her family, or will she join the shining Lannisters as one of the Kappas?In the meantime, Daenerys Targaryen and her brother Viserys are on a mission to reinstate their family’s ancestral charters of Chi Omega and Omega Zeta Lambda; the Baratheon hold at the top of the tier system is in jeopardy as the Deltas crumble; Jon Snow gets courted by the reputable underground frat, Sigma Nu, or the Night’s Watch; House Tyrell and the Sigmas sit back and enjoy the show as the other houses fight; and Theta Chi is on the rise — or so say the Theta Chi Greyjoys.





	Greek

**Author's Note:**

> I'm not going to lie, if you aren't in Greek Life, this might be the most ridiculous thing you'll ever read, but I promise you most of it is from personal experience.
> 
> I used some fake sororities/fraternities and some real ones, please don't think that the reputations/actions of the sororities/fraternities in this story are accurate, I completely made them up (most of the Houses have the sororities and fraternities that they do because the colors match the GOT Houses)

House Stark is written in silver on a white banner, someone’s geometric rendition of a wolf’s head beneath it. It hangs across the space between the two white houses at the end of Winterfell Lane, each standing identically tall and proud. Their letters are displayed in silver just below their roofs — KΘM for Kappa Theta Mu on the left, ΨEM for Psi Epsilon Mu on the right. In the seat next to Sansa, Arya’s leg bounces excitedly, like an eager puppy. Sansa just looks at them with disinterest.

“Now, we can’t take you two _inside_ , now that you are Potential New Members, but we’ll just park here while we walk around the campus,” Eddard Stark says from the driver’s seat. Catelyn Stark beams as she turns around to look at her daughters.

“The girls just redesigned the Theta Mu sitting room, and it looks fantastic. You’ll love it.”

Arya leans forward. “Mom, why don’t the Tullys have a house?”

“Because my family doesn’t believe in Greek Life,” Catelyn says. Sansa rolls her eyes; she’s heard this before. “My grandfather was the first in his family to attend college, and he didn’t even go to Kings Landing University. He went to Twins College, and they didn’t have Greek life. Then, when my parents came here, they thought that Greek Life was too uppity. Luckily, my uncle Brynden was able to join the Mus. He was the one who got me into Kappa Theta Mu, even when my parents pushed us away for it.”

“And that was how she met me,” Ned adds.

“We were pinned.”

“We _know_ ,” Sansa groans. Her father looks at her in the rearview mirror, her mother frowns, and Arya sits back in her seat.

Sansa should feel bad that she’s ruining her family’s excitement about move-in and her and Ayra’s first visit to Winterfell as KLU students, but she can’t seem to muster any remorse. She is tired of hearing about the history of House Stark and the Mus, of Aunt Lyanna’s miraculous win as Theta Mu president in only her sophomore year, of her father’s reforms as local representative for the Mus, of the outdated Mu traditions gladly carried on even through her brother Robb’s time as president. She just wants to get away from Arya and start orientation.

Ned parks the car right in front of the two houses, and as soon as he stops, Arya is out of the car and running. Sansa gets out and looks over the top of the sedan. Robb is standing on the Mu porch, silver letters blazing on the front of his white shirt. Arya barrels into his arms, throwing him back a step.

Robb laughs. “I saw you two days ago, kid.”

“I know, but I missed you,” Arya says. Sansa walks to the bottom of the porch steps and stops. “Sansa is being a bitch.”

It’s a whisper, but it’s not quiet enough. “I heard you,” Sansa says. She climbs the stairs and pulls Robb away to hug him.

Robb wraps Sansa in his arms tightly, and she sighs. “Bitch is just a word meant to keep women from taking agency and getting what they want.”

“Which means that we can reclaim it,” Sansa finishes. She looks at him curiously. “Have you been reading Talisa’s Women and Gender Studies textbooks?”

“Maybe.”

Arya snorts. “Aw, he’s whipped.”

“We knew this.” Sansa nods in agreement.

As if on cue, the president of Kappa Theta Mu comes out of the house in a shining pink sundress just as the sun comes out from behind the clouds. Talisa Maegyr’s eyes sparkle in the sunlight. She is ethereal, Sansa decides, and suddenly she feels jealousy bubble at the bottom of her chest, but she isn’t sure why. Talisa walks down the stairs of the Theta Mu house and joins her boyfriend and his sisters on the Mu porch.

“Hello, my favorite freshmen,” Talisa says, her voice light. She has a beautiful accent and wonderful tan skin and black hair, the perfect yin to Robb’s gruff and hard yang. “Are you two ready to move in?”

Arya nods. “We already dropped our stuff off at the dorms.”

“How exciting! I remember my freshman move-in. I was so disoriented, it took me two hours to find my dorm. If only my parents had been here…” She looks away, and Robb puts his arm around her waist.

“Will you help us move in?” Arya asks. Sansa rolls her eyes. Her sister acts like a baby around Talisa and Robb.

“Of course,” Talisa says.

“Come on.” Robb takes Arya around the shoulder and ushers her off the porch. “We’d better move if we want to beat the move-in rush.”

It’s a short walk to the freshmen dorms, but it’s a hot day, and Sansa chose the wrong shoes to walk, so she’s lagging behind. They arrive at the Red Keep, Sansa’s dorm, and Sansa adjusts the strap of her sandal for the hundredth time. Sansa’s things have mostly been brought inside from the pile they had left it in, but there are still some things to move. Ned and Rob take her heavy suitcases, Talisa picks up a lamp, Catelyn takes Sansa’s whiteboard, and Arya picks up the bedding. Sansa runs ahead to open doors.

Thankfully, her room is only on the second floor. They all trudge up the stairs, which open into a beautiful lounge, then turn left. Hers is the first room, directly across from the Resident Assistant. Sansa groans. She’ll never get away with anything.

Her roommate is already there when they go in. She’s sitting alone on her perfectly made bed, reading a thick book. Her golden hair tumbles effortlessly over one bare shoulder, and her green eyes flick over the words quickly. Sansa wouldn’t even have to know her roommate’s name to know who she is.

“Myrcella Lannister?” Sansa asks, and the girl looks up from her book, her eyes wide. Sansa thinks it must be daunting to see half of the Stark clan in your room during move-in, but there they are.

Myrcella gets off of the bed and goes to meet Sansa. Sansa has to step around her brother to get to Myrcella. “You must be Sansa Stark. It’s lovely to meet you.”

“And you,” Sansa says.

“Do you need any help?” Myrcella looks at the ordered chaos that is Sansa’s plethora of things. “My brothers moved me in earlier, so I’m all set.”

Sansa blushes as she scans the mess. “I think we’re okay—”

“Sansa, could you take this?” Ned asks from across the room. He’s holding a hanging bag with Sansa’s clothes for the closet.

Robb nearly drops Sansa’s box of decorations. “Help!” he calls, and Myrcella runs over to help him support the weight. There’s a crash near Arya.

Move-in takes five hours.

* * *

“Remember, sweet sister, that we deserve this. We are Omegas, and King’s Landing is _our_ school. So, whatever it takes to get our charter back, you will do. Understand me?”

Daenerys cowers away from Viserys’ hissing voice. The heat of his breath burns her cheek. “I understand.”

Viserys sneers at students staring at them. “Nationals has already granted us a charter. We just need the Office of Student Affairs on our side. You know who runs OSA, don’t you?”

“Khal Drogo,” Daenerys whispers.

“Khal Drogo.” Viserys spits his name like it’s venom. “His office is open today. Go and see him as soon as you can. We’re counting on you, sweet sister.”

He walks away from her without another word.

Daenerys can finally breathe again. The air is hot, just as she likes it, and the sounds of a bustling campus fill the area. Daenerys goes into her dorm, Essos Hall, a community designed for international students. Daenerys was born outside of Westeros, and even though she lived in Westeros all her life, she still qualified for international rooming. So, she took the opportunity to learn more about the international students.

Essos Hall is old and grand, and was obviously decorated by international students. Flags from each of the Free Cities hang in the parlor. Chairs from Meereen sit around a table with a Braavosi board game. Qarthian lamps illuminate books from Penthos, Myr, Naath, and even Old Valyria, Daenerys’ homeland. The room is vibrant with color. Daenerys figures she stands out with her white-blonde hair and pale skin and her mother’s faded red Chi Omega shirt that Viserys made her wear.

Her room is just off of the parlor in the girls corridor. The walls are tan, and they look to be made of sandstone rather than brick. Her door is a thick dark wood. She pushes it open slowly, and opens it to find it different from how she had left it when she had moved her things in. Her roommate has arrived and decorated the entire room. It is lit gently with string lights, and hand-woven tapestries hang from the wall. There are books everywhere, all in different languages. A painting of the island of Naath hangs above her roommate’s desk.

“Ah, hello,” a voice says, and Daenerys gasps and turns around. A beautiful tall girl with dark skin and dark curls looks at her, her eyes sparkling with excitement. “I am Missandei. You must be Daenerys Stormborn.”

“Daenerys Targaryen, really. The school accidentally used my mother’s maiden name.”

Missandei puts the books she holds on her desk and shakes Daenerys’ hand. “It is nice to meet you, Daenerys. I hope you don’t mind the decorations. I suppose I should have asked you before I did all of this.”

“It’s beautiful. I don’t mind it at all,” Daenerys says. “I didn’t bring anything of my own.”

Missandei looks at her sadly. “Well, anything that you want to change, feel free. I have a few more things to hang up, if you’d like to help.”

Daenerys nods. “Of course.”

“Here.” Missandei opens a small box and begins taking things out. They are all from Naath.

“Are you from Naath?”

“Originally, yes, though we moved to Astapor after I graduated senior school. What about you?”

Daenerys laughs. “I’m from Westeros.”

“Westeros?” Missandei asks. “How are you in this dorm?”

“Well, I’m actually from Old Valyria, but we had to leave, obviously. We were refugees in the Great Grass Sea for a time, but I don’t really remember. Then we went to the Stormlands in Westeros. Although my brother went to boarding school in Penthos, and I visited him quite a lot.” Daenerys hangs up a string of beads over the mirror.

“You are an interesting girl, Daenerys Targaryen,” Missandei says. Daenerys blushes.

* * *

Sansa stumbles into the Red Keep after a long orientation service all the way across campus. She really chose the wrong shoes for the day.

The whole thing is overwhelming, really. She had said goodbye to her parents earlier, as well as Talisa, Robb, and Arya, who were all going to Arya’s dorm, the House of Black and White, to move her in. Almost immediately after, Sansa’s dorm had been required to go to a team building seminar and an orientation service involving strange King’s Landing University traditions that Sansa didn’t quite understand.

Now, all she wants is to collapse into bed and read some of her course books before classes start Monday. Sansa laughs to herself. It’s her first Friday night of college, and she already wants to stay in. She opens the door to her room, and she hears a strange gasp and a shifting, and a man’s voice.

She understands when she goes in the room. Myrcella is standing at the edge of her bed, a handsome, long-haired boy with tan skin and dark eyes sitting on the edge of the bed next to her.

“Sansa! You’re back. How was it?” Myrcella asks quickly.

Sansa’s brow furrows. “Uh, it was long.”

They all stare at each other for a moment. Sansa notices that Myrcella is in a white shirt that barely covers her chest and a jean skirt. She wears white Converse on her feet.

“Oh, uh, Sansa, this is my boyfriend, Trystane Martell.”

The boy, Trystane, hops off the bed and extends his hand. “A pleasure.”

Sansa shakes it. Yes, she recognizes him now, the Martell boy, a sophomore set to take the presidency of Delta Omega Rho Nu, the only gender neutral fraternity, from his young uncle, Oberyn. The Dornes are a strange group, but they are all beautiful and elusive. Sansa has heard that all of their parties end in some sort of orgy.

“We’re going to the Dorn party, if you want to tag along,” Myrcella says, but Sansa can tell that she doesn’t quite mean it.

“That’s okay. I think I’m going to stay in tonight.” Sansa kicks her shoes off — finally — and picks up a politics book from her desk before falling into bed.

Myrcella and Trystane are already halfway out the door. “See you later.”

The door stays propped open, and Sansa grumbles, about to get up and close it, when a brown-haired girl walks by, stops, and then sticks her head in the doorway.

“What is this? A frosh staying in on First Friday?” She’s beautiful, and she looks older. She’s wearing a green bodysuit with a halter top and a deep v-neck that nearly stretches to the waist of her jean shorts. Sansa follows the line down and stares at her chest before catching herself and focusing on the girl’s pink Converse. They’re decorated with green flowers and greek letters — ∑∑∑, TriSig. Sansa looks at her face again. “I’m Margaery Tyrell, your RA. Can I come in?”

Sansa’s brain misfires, and her jaw drops before she can nod. It’s Margaery Tyrell, TriSig royalty. She’s a triple legacy — Olenna Tyrell, her grandmother, was a founding member of Sigma Sigma Sigma sorority, and her great-great-grandfather established the KLU chapter of Sigma Chi fraternity. The Sigs, especially the Tyrell Sigs, are famed beauties at KLU. Even her father admitted to having vied for the affections of the gorgeous Prim Tyrell, Margaery’s aunt.

Margaery laughs as Sansa splutters. “Yes, yeah, you can come in.” Her eyes are drawn again to Margaery’s chest as Margaery crosses the room and sits at Sansa’s desk. “I’m Sansa Stark.”

“I know. I’m your RA,” Margaery repeats, and she laughs again, and Sansa wants to sink into the floor. “I know Robb and Jon, too. They love their baby sister.”

“Robb, I believe, but Jon must have been talking about my sister Arya.”

“Perhaps.” Margaery looks around at Sansa’s things, probably searching for a trace of vintage Theta Mu paraphernalia from Catelyn Stark. She won’t find anything. “So, staying in?”

“I have no one to go out with,” Sansa says, and it sounds sad, but it’s true. While everyone else had been making fast friends during orientation, Sansa had been lonely in the crowd.

“That shouldn’t stop you. The Mus are having a party, and I’m sure some of the Theta Mus that live on campus would gladly take you if your brother asked them.” Margaery smiles at her hopefully.

Sansa sighs. “I don’t want to go to the Mu party.”

Margaery looks at her curiously, but doesn’t press. “Alright.” She thinks for a minute, then stands and pulls something out of her back pocket. It’s a silver flask. “Here.” She extends it to Sansa, and Sansa’s eyes widen, her heart beating. _Is this a trick?_ “Go on. It’s just vodka.”

“Shouldn’t you be busting freshman for having alcohol, rather than offering it to them?” Sansa asks as she warily takes the flask. She unscrews the top and takes a long sip. It tingles on her tongue and burns down her throat.

Margaery takes the flask back. “I’m only an RA because I didn’t want to live in the TriSig house. I’m not here to enforce the rules.”

“Why didn’t you want to live in the TriSig house?”

“My grandmother.” Margaery takes a pull from the flask. “I love TriSig, and I wouldn’t want to be in any other house, but my grandmother has a hand in every part of my life. I needed to be away from her, and this was the only way.”

“I understand that,” Sansa says bitterly. She picks at the silver bedspread beneath her. Her mother’s choice.

“Not a Theta Mu hopeful, then?” Margaery asks, finally understanding. She smirks as Sansa rolls her eyes.

“It’s not like I really have a choice.” It’s a truth that Sansa has been facing all her life. She never fit in with her family, always wanting different things. She was close with her mother, yes, but they were still very different people. Sansa wanted to explore, to try new things, wear new colors. But at King’s Landing University, if your name isn’t already in a house yearbook, you have no change of getting in. That’s why the Greek Life dynasties are so intact; the last twenty years have seen a rise in exclusivity of Greek Life. Only the rare Potential New Member without a name gets into a house.

“You might find that interesting things happen during recruitment. Especially this year, with the Baratheons on the fall.”

“What do you mean?”

“Ever since Robert Baratheon became the local rep for the Deltas, they’ve spiraled. Robert spends money wildly, their budget ran out halfway through spring semester last year. They didn’t even host a last day of class party.” Margaery shakes her head. “What a shame. And, the school has come down pretty hard on them because they’ve racked up so many alcohol charges between Delta Beta and Delta Kappa Epsilon. There’s even a rumor that a Deke has a sexual assault charge pending.”

“Gods,” Sansa gasps. She remembers going to the DKE house as a little girl, her father and Robert Baratheon touring it during one homecoming weekend. Robert had always dreamed of running the Deltas and solidifying a claim of House Baratheon.

“It’s a sinking ship. If I were a freshman, I’d stay away.” Margaery falls back into the desk chair and takes another swig. “Anyway, it’s almost time to go. Get dressed.”

Sansa freezes. “What?”

“I’m assuming you have cute frat outfits to wear. Put one on. You’re coming out with me,” Margaery says.

“Won’t you get in trouble?” Sansa asks. “You’re my RA.”

Margaery waves a hand before getting up and going to Sansa’s closet. “My brother, Loras, was an RA too. He taught me how to get around the rules.” She reaches down and picks up Sansa’s white Converse. Talisa had taken her and Arya to get them as soon as they had been accepted to KLU. “Ah, you have your geed shoes. Perfect.”

* * *

Daenerys looks at herself in the mirror again and smoothes the thin lilac dress over her curves. It’s a bit long, but Daenerys doesn’t mind. She already feels out of her element in it.

“Are you sure it looks good?” she asks. Missandei peeks out of the closet and stares at her.

“You are beautiful, Daenerys. It makes your eyes pop.” Daenerys slips on golden sandals just as Missandei steps out in a white skirt and a blue top. She looks down. “Oh, no. You won’t want to wear those. Do you have Chucks?”

“What?”

Missandei sighs. “ _Hopeless_.” She goes back into the closet, searches, and brings out an old pair of slip-on black Vans that Daenerys brought. “You’ll look out of place, but it’ll have to do.”

Daenerys changes her shoes and then looks in the mirror again. “I’m not sure…”

“Come, Dany. It’ll be great. You’re going to learn so much about the school,” Missandei says. She takes Daenerys by the wrist and pulls her out of the room.

Their dorm seems to move together in a horde. Chattering Dothrakis, the Water Dancing team from Braavos, Pentoshi archers, beautiful people from Volantis, they all walk together towards the Greek houses just off campus.

“Where are we going again?” Daenerys asks.

“Pi Kappa Epsilon, the fraternity portion of the House Kappa, commonly known as House Lannister, as most of their members have been from the Lannister family. The current president is Jaime Lannister; his sister, Cersei, is president of the sister sorority, Kappa Iota Gamma, and their father, Tywin Lannister, is the local representative.”

Daenerys looks at her, her eyes wide. “Are you sure you don’t speak eighteen languages, Greek Life being one of them? I barely understood a word of that.”

“Greek is one of my favorite languages,” Missandei says, “and Greek Life fascinates me. It’s so intricate, so superficial, yet has become a staple of Westerosi culture, especially at KLU.”

“My mother was a Chi Omega.”

Missandei nods. “Yes. House Omega, established by the Targaryens over a century ago. One of the largest houses until it was revealed that local representative Aerys Targaryen was promoting bid promising, as well as having affairs with young Chi Omegas…” She looks at Daenerys nervously.

“My father,” Daenerys says, and she is sure that Missandei now understands.

The school had used her mother’s maiden name to spare her from embarrassment. Aerys Targaryen had impregnated her mother, Daniella Stormborn, a freshman ChiO, and that was when his transgressions came to light. Before Nationals could come down on him, Aerys had taken her mother and his sons, Rhaegar and Viserys, to Old Valyria, hoping to evade the police. They still found him, and they dragged him away screaming. Rhaegar was ruined for his bid promising scandal, and he left Essos and never returned. Daniella and Viserys were left, and Daniella had Daenerys, then died during the destruction of Old Valyria. Kind strangers took them to the Stormlands, and Aemon Targaryen raised them as his own.

“I’m… I’m sorry, Daenerys,” Missandei says, and Daenerys closes her eyes and sinks into the genuineness of her apology. Once they get to the street that has most of the Greek houses, the large group splits up, some going all the way down the street to houses with letters Daenerys had never even heard of. “Come on, Casterly Rock Road is just this way.”

They cut through a backyard and carefully step over kiddie toys strewn across the yard. It was dark when they left, but now the moon is high in the sky and lights their path down the road.

Daenerys hears the party before she sees it. A deep bass thumps throughout the neighborhood, shakes the ground the closer they get to the house. Then, she sees it — two great brick buildings that tower over the street like castles, purple and blue lights shining out of the windows of the one on the right. The letters over one building say KIΓ, and over the other ∏KE is emblazoned. Kappa Iota Gamma and Pi Kappa Epsilon, the letters of House Lannister.

There are stone lions at the bottom of the steps to the Pi Kappa Epsilon house, and Missandei and Daenerys pass them as they climb to the porch. Five older boys stand outside, all in button downs and shorts, one with an upside-down visor on his head. Daenerys looks at them warily.

“They’re just Pike brothers. They watch the door to make sure everyone gets in okay,” Missandei whispers. Daenerys believes her, until a lone boy tries to go in to the party and he gets pushed back by the boy with the visor.

“Sorry, bro. Rush list only,” he says, and the boy pulls out his school ID.

“But I’m a freshman, I just got here. I haven’t met anyone.”

“Can’t help you.”

They pass the boys with no issue, and once they are just inside, Daenerys grabs Missandei’s arm. “Rush list?”

“Frats have a weird way of rushing. Boys try to meet the brothers, establish relationships with them, give their emails out, and then the frat sends out an email inviting anyone they put on their list to the party,” Missandei says, pulling Daenerys towards a white door. “Guys who don’t get the email don’t get in.”

“Why would they do that?”

Missandei eyes Daenerys, and for the first time Daenerys feels utterly stupid. “To keep the competition low. Increases the chances of all the brothers getting a girl.”

The door opens, and suddenly they’re descending narrow steps to a dark basement. Strobe lights mix with colored lights to illuminate the most chaotic scene Daenerys has ever witnessed. It is packed, corner to corner, with moving bodies, all holding red cups. In one corner, a group of girls shriek out the words to whatever song is playing. In the center, three guys are each dancing with girls that are hanging on them. Other boys roam through the crowd like lions prowling, looking for a girl to scoop up. To the left of this madness is crazy of another kind: twenty people are packing themselves into a small space to press up against a makeshift bar, where two overwhelmed boys are frantically scooping red liquid into cups and doling it out.

That’s immediately where Missandei goes. She’s taller than Daenerys, so she pushes ahead, and Daenerys follows in her wake. Thankfully, most of the girls in line are drunk already, so they don’t protest when Missandei worms her way to the front of the line.

“Two punches, please,” Missandei says, her voice high. Daenerys catches a glimpse of her smile and the way her eyes are completely focused on the kid behind the bar. Her chest tightens, and — is she jealous?

The kid hands Missandei the cups, and she turns and the facade drops immediately. She hands one to Daenerys, then touches them together before taking a long sip. Daenerys copies her. It stings, at first. The punch tastes like a cacophony of alcohol and soda and KoolAid, and no one taste is completely discernible. Daenerys likes it.

“Do you even know what’s in this?” she asks loudly, and Missandei just shrugs.

“Frats don’t share their recipes with anyone but the brothers.” She takes Daenerys by the hand —and it could be the sip of punch or the atmosphere or just Missandei, but Daenerys’ whole body tingles — and they go into the fray.Missandei bends down, and her lips are so close to Daenerys’ ear. “Look at all of them, it’s incredible.” Until then, Daenerys wouldn’t have described it as _incredible_ , but she suddenly decides to see it through Missandei’s eyes, and it is. “Over there, with the brown hair and the pink top, she’s a Kappa Theta Mu. And in front of us, wearing a green dress, she’s Delta Beta. The girls in the corner are Kappas. Oh! There are some TriSigs coming downstairs.”

Daenerys takes Missandei by the shoulders. “What are you _saying_? How do you know this?” Missandei laughs her beautiful, airy laugh and gently takes Daenerys’ wrists in her hands.

“Dany, my sweet summer child, you have so much to learn. Look down,” she says, and tilts Daenerys’ head down by her chin, “see their shoes? They all are wearing Chucks—”

“Chucks?”

Missandei laughs again. “Converse. Those high-top shoes _literally_ everyone here is wearing? Sorority girls call them Chucks, like Chuck Taylor. All of the houses have colors associated with them. The Mus are silver and white, the Kappas are red and gold, the Sigs are green and pink, and so on. Girls get Chucks in the color of their sorority and decorate them with their letters, since it’s some sort of rule that you can’t wear Greek letters to unofficial parties. It’s how they wear the pride of their house.”

Suddenly, Daenerys sees. She sees pink shoes and catches a glimpse of a Sigma written on them; she spies orange ones decorated with a red sun; glinting silver Chucks with a silver wolf drawn on one toe and ‘Kappa Theta Mu’ written on the other pass near her. Suddenly, Daenerys sees, and she wants to know _everything_.

“It’s _incredible_.”

* * *

Sansa’s shoes are already destroyed.

They’ve been to two parties — first, an hour at the Sigma Chi house on Highgarden Avenue for a pregame (although it was already so packed, Sansa could hardly believe that it was called a pregame), then a stop at the Theta Chi bungalow at Pyke Place. It was, Margaery assured her, a usual Tachi party, with only beer and lime Whiteclaws behind the bar and a mediocre turnout. Half of the brothers weren’t even there. The only reason they had stopped there was because Margaery had a complicated relationship with Yara Greyjoy, the only female member and president, and it was in her best interest to keep Yara happy. Otherwise, Margaery warned, it was best not to be caught dead at Tachi before recruitment.

Now, as Sansa looks down at her shoes as they squish across the dark pavement, her formerly white Chucks are grey-brown and splattered with beer and punch, and Sansa is pleased.

She realizes that she has absolutely no idea where they’re going. She’s been on Greek Row maybe three hundred times in her life, but this time it looks so different. This time, she isn’t Sansa Stark, daughter of Eddard and Catelyn Stark, sister of Robb Stark, and a Theta Mu legacy; she’s just Sansa, a God Damn Independent with ruined white Chucks embarking on her first night out of college.

“Which party is next?” she finally asks Margaery, who, for being short, is so _fast_. She has a clear purpose, it seems: to get to as many parties as she can. Sansa loves it.

Margaery looks at her and for a moment, Sansa thinks she looks nervous. “Pike.”

Sansa understands her look, and she stumbles for a moment, but she recovers. Pi Kappa Epsilon, the fraternity half of House Lannister, sworn enemies of House Stark. Every time Robb came home from school, for breaks or even just an afternoon off, he complained about the Pikes. Even worse, it was rumored that Tywin Lannister, local rep for the Kappas, was the one who got Ned Stark fired as Mu local rep.

But this is exactly what Sansa wanted. She wanted to experience houses that weren’t her own, she wanted to go to parties without being under the watchful eye of her brother. She doesn’t hate her family; she loves them more than anything. But, it is time for Sansa to learn who she is, and she always knew she wasn’t a Theta Mu.

They get to the end of Casterly Rock Road, and Sansa suddenly feels dizzy. All the punch and Whiteclaws that she’d had finally hit her, and it does so in the best way. Everything is blurred at the edges and moves faster than normal, and Sansa feels like she can consume it all in five breaths, can run into this house and through the party and dance until her heart gives out. It’s her new favorite feeling.

“Hey, Lancel, what’s up?” Margaery asks, and Sansa looks at her and can only gape, because Margaery has become a bro all of a sudden. She does some sort of strange handshake with a boy sporting the worst haircut she’s ever seen. “This is Sansa, one of my residents.” Sansa is grateful that she leaves out her last name.

“What up, Sansa,” Lancel says, and then she and Margaery are inside and stumbling down the rickety stairs as two large men push past them.

“Welcome to Pike, Sansa. Don’t tell your brother I brought you here.” Margaery pushes Sansa in first and Sansa realizes that she’ll do anything for Margaery. Margaery goes to the bar immediately and squeezes behind it, and when Sansa goes to follow, Margaery stops her. “Sorry, kiddo, but you have to stay here. I’ll be right back.”

Sansa tracks her as she rounds the spray-painted plywood and jumps on the back of some tall, skinny blonde boy, and it’s all he can do to catch her without knocking the whole structure over.

“Hi, pledge!” Margaery shouts into his ear before kissing his pink cheek, and Sansa looks away. It’s a few moments before Margaery is back in front of Sansa, and she has dragged the boy with her. He has two drinks in his hands, and Margaery has another. “Sansa, this beautiful boy is Tommen Lannister, my very best friend. He’s House Lannister’s next golden boy, after his brother Jaime.”

“Your sister is my roommate,” Sansa says as Tommen hands her one of the cups.

“Oh, sweet Myrcella, she’s great. I shared a room with her until I was ten. Neatest person you’ll ever meet.” Tommen sweeps his hair out of his green eyes and looks at the line of people waiting for drinks. “I gotta go. Have fun, girls.”

Margaery takes his drink from his hands, and before he can protest, says, “Bye, Tommen, my love!”

Margaery gets down from the bar and she and Sansa go towards the crowd of people dancing. Sansa sips the blue punch and her face screws up immediately. “What is _in_ this?”

“A lot of vodka, a little bit of sprite, a sprinkle of blueberry flavor powder, some weird juice, and more vodka. It’s the brother punch, so it’s stronger than what all the plebes get.” Margaery takes a long, deep sip, and when she looks back to Sansa, she seems more refreshed. Sansa copies her.

She can feel it in her bones when they turn to liquid. “Can we dance?”

Instead of answering, Margaery puts a hand on her lower back and brings her into the crowd, and before Sansa knows it, her hips are moving to the rhythm. She thinks Margaery is the one moving her, and then she realizes that it’s just herself. Margaery is barely an inch away from her, and Margaery dances as though she’s the only person in the room, her limbs ebbing and flowing like the vines of a rose crawling over a wall, the branches of a tree swaying in the wind. Sansa wants to reach out and grab her waist to keep her close, but before she can, a back pushes into her and a couple, attached at their lips, are barreling between Margaery and Sansa, and the crowd fills in the space, and then Sansa is alone.

She looks around frantically, but the lights and the alcohol make it hard for Sansa to concentrate on just one thing. Everyone looks the same from above, the purple filters casting the same shadow on everyone’s heads. Tall boys block her view of faces. A hand on her arm brings her attention back below, and Sansa turns, expecting to find Margaery.

Instead, it’s a woman just barely shorter than her, with flowing golden locks and green eyes. She’s wearing a red bandeaux that says ‘Kappa,’ and Sansa doesn’t need to look down to know that her Chucks are red. She doesn’t even need to ask who the woman is, because she’s seen those green eyes twice already.

Cersei Lannister puts her arm around Sansa’s shoulders to steady her. “Are you okay, little dove? You seem lost.”

“I was with my friend, and then I got pushed away from her,” Sansa says, and she’s sure her voice is shaking. She takes a drink to calm herself.

“I’m sure you’ll find her soon. You needn’t worry.” Cersei’s eyes scan over her again, and she looks down at Sansa’s shoes. “I’d expected you to be in Stark silver already.”

Sansa’s heart stops, and the dizziness in her head isn’t from the alcohol anymore. “Pardon me?”

“I could spot you anywhere, Sansa Stark. I’ve known you since you were born, with your shock of red hair, so unlike the other Starks, so _beautiful_.” Cersei reaches up and tucks an errant lock of hair behind Sansa’s ear. “We thought you would be at the Mu party, but here you are, in the lion’s den. Does poor Robb know you’re here?” Sansa opens her mouth to answer, but Cersei keeps talking. “I suppose not. Don’t worry, I can keep a secret. Come with me, let’s talk upstairs.”

If Sansa declines, she’ll be alone again and without Margaery still, and she thinks that being with Cersei Lannister is probably better than that. So, she follows Cersei through the crowd and up the stairs. People part for her like she’s a queen.

The Pike lounge is near the kitchen, and only a few brothers occupy it, some playing beer pong, and one sitting on a black leather couch. Cersei goes to it and sits down very close to the man there, brushes his blonde hair out of his eyes. He’s Jaime Lannister, of course, twin to Cersei and president of Pi Kappa Epsilon. They look golden in the lamplight, hair laying perfect and shining, matching reds a compliment to their green eyes. Cersei drapes her legs over Jaime’s, careful to keep her dirty Chucks off of his pants.

“Dear brother, this is Sansa Stark,” Cersei says, and Jaime extends a hand in a firm handshake.

“Ah, she abandoned the Pack for the Pride.” Jaime smiles at his metaphor.

Cersei reaches for her. “Sit down, little dove, and drink up. The night is almost through.”

That makes Sansa nervous. She had wanted to do so much more, especially with Margaery. She sits and takes a long sip. It goes to her head almost immediately.

“You’re Jaime Lannister?” Sansa asks stupidly, and Cersei laughs.

“Yes, this is my beautiful brother. We were brought into the world together, we were initiated into Kappa together. True twins, they say.” Cersei’s words sound sweet through the haze of the brother punch. “The Lannisters know that family is everything. That’s why we’re so lucky to all be Kappas. And, our family is growing. Last year, Kappa Iota Gamma took our largest pledge class in twenty years. They’re some our best recruits yet.”

“Besides you,” Jaime says. Cersei kisses him on the cheek.

“The new pledge class was integral to our victory in the Sigma Chi Greek Week, with one of the highest margins. Did you see our dance? It has one thousand likes on YouTube.”

Sansa has seen the Kappa dance, watched it over and over as nearly one hundred beautiful, skinny blondes dipped and twirled and moved their hips in ways that Sansa couldn’t even imagine herself doing. It was no wonder they won Greek Week.

Cersei levels a searing gaze at Sansa. “I’ve heard that you’re a smart girl, Sansa, and you certainly are beautiful. You could thrive at KLU. That is, if you make the right decision. You like it on Casterly Rock Road, don’t you?”

Sansa opens her mouth, then feels a pang of guilt in her chest and closes it again.

“Sansa, there you are, I’ve been—” Margaery stops when she spies Jaime and Cersei. She paints on the fakest smile Sansa has ever seen. “Cersei, what a pleasure.”

Cersei glares back, not even trying to play nice. “Look, Jaime, a weed from Highgarden come to take root.”

“Put your claws away, Lannister. I’m here for Sansa,” Margaery says.

“I wasn’t causing her any harm, just telling her about the wonders of Kappa Iota Gamma.”

Margaery rolls her eyes. “Recruitment is four weeks away.”

“There it is. That’s the reason why Kappa is fast building an empire, while the Sigs are just staying afloat,” Cersei says. Sansa’s eyes follow the exchange like a tennis match.

“The Sigmas are happy staying out of your stupid house games. That’s why we put them on.” Margaery grabs Sansa’s arm and tugs her up from the couch. “Be careful, Cersei, or I’ll tell her brother you’ve been dirty rushing her.”

Cersei laughs, truly cackles. “You think I’m afraid of the Young Wolf?”

Margaery doesn’t reply, just takes Sansa away from the lounge. They go back towards the stairs to the basement, and Sansa thinks Margaery is going to yell at her, scold her for being so stupid and talking to the president of a sorority this long before recruitment. Instead, Margaery leads her back downstairs and takes her to dance again, this time with a ghost of a grip on her waist.

Sansa downs her drink, and then Margaery offers her another, and Sansa finishes it as well. Her head is swirling with Greek letters and lions and wolves, and she just wants to be here with Margaery. The girl’s eyes are purple, and then red, and then blue, and then green. Sansa leans into her.

“Is Tommen your boyfriend?” she asks, because she is drunk.

Margaery laughs. “He was, once, at the very beginning. Then, we both realized that we’re gay, and that was that.”

Sansa’s jaw drops, and her heart pounds, and her stomach flutters, and it isn’t because she is drunk.

She stumbles forward, and Margaery catches her. Sansa is beside herself. She loves being wrapped in Margaery’s arms, loves the feeling of Margaery’s hair on her cheek. “Okay,” Margaery says, “I think it’s time to go.”

Sansa closes her eyes, and when she opens them again, Margaery is leading her onto a familiar street.

“No,” she whispers, and she tries to stop, but she was never walking in the first place, so she blinks again. Now she’s on the porch of Psi Epsilon Mu. Margaery brings her inside, and it’s too bright. Sansa shuts her eyes tightly. Her ears ring.

“Greyjoy, water.” Margaery brings her into a room so bright her eyelids can’t even block it. She hears a fridge open and close, and then she’s lifted onto a cold countertop. “Sansa, open your eyes, please.”

Sansa remembers Margaery, and her silent pledge to do anything for her, so she blinks her eyes open. She smiles so big her cheeks hurt.

“ _Theon_!”

His arms are strong and his face is scratchy, and his sweater smells like the sea. “Hey, pretty lady. Rough night?”

Sansa ignores his question. “Theon, where have you been, Theon? I haven’t seen you in so long, Theon, and I miss you, I miss my brothers and you are my brother, Theon. Theeeeeeon.”

“I’m going to get Robb,” Margaery says. “Get her to drink some?”

“Drink? I want Lannister punch. Theon, make me Lannister punch.”

Theon and Margaery stare at each other for what feels like forever.

“You didn’t,” Theon says.

Margaery sighs. “ _Don’t tell Robb_.”

Theon cracks the seal on the bottle of water and brings it up to Sansa’s mouth. “Come on, you’ve gotta drink.” Sansa shakes her head. “Please, Sans. Don’t be difficult.”

Sansa doesn’t want to be difficult. She opens her mouth and Theon tilts the bottle so she can drink. After her first taste of it, she thinks that it’s the best water she’s ever had. The bottle is empty in seconds.

A loud cheer comes from another room, and Sansa doesn’t want to be left out. She starts to get off the counter while Theon gets another water for her, and he shouts and runs back to catch her.

“Where are you going?”

“I wanna see!” Sansa points towards the sounds. Theon sighs and picks her up by her waist. She can’t tell where he’s going, but she knows he’s going in the right direction when the sounds get louder. He lowers her gently onto a couch that she’s fallen asleep on before. Theon gets her to take another long gulp of water before she notices what the commotion is. “Oh, no, no, no.”

Of all the people Sansa wants to see right now, Arya is at the bottom of the list. Arya, who is in joggers and a white tank top, with her pure white Chucks; Arya who is a popping a hole into the side of a beer can and lifting it to her lips. The group of boys around her, all faces that Sansa knows, are chanting her name: _Arya, Arya, Arya_.

Sansa thinks she’s going to be sick.

Theon knows it, too. He darts away and is back in seconds with a trash can to hold under Sansa’s chin.

“How many is that, Arya, seven in a row?” Hot Pie asks, his face wet with beer.

Ned Umber scoffs. “It’s a wonder she hasn’t yakked yet.”

The word is like a trigger; Sansa’s head is suddenly in the can. She hopes no one else notices. She hears footsteps, and then a slender hand is on her back. She lifts her head. It’s Margaery, back with Robb and Jon.

“How long has she been like this?” Robb asks, his brow furrowed. Talisa comes up from behind him, a wet towel in her hand. She puts it on the back of Sansa’s neck, and it feels like heaven.

“Not long,” Margaery says. “We left the last party twenty minutes ago, about when it all hit her.”

Jon suddenly presses a hand to her forehead. “Whose party?”

“Sigma Chi.” The lie is effortless.

It’s suddenly very loud, and all Sansa wants is quiet. She keeps hearing Robb’s voice, then Margaery’s and Theon’s and Jon’s and Cersei’s and Jaime’s, and then there’s one. It’s soft and it sounds like a scared little girl.

“Sansa?” Arya has stopped shotgunning beers and is now hovering over her siblings, her brown eyes trained on Sansa. Sansa’s heart melts. Arya’s never seen her like this, didn’t even know that Sansa had gotten drunk in high school.

“I’m okay, Arya,” Sansa says, her voice suddenly clear. She collects herself, sits up on the couch and shoos everyone away. “I’m fine, really. I’d just like to go to sleep. Can I stay here?”

“Of course.” Robb is standing already and pushing people out of the way. Theon picks her up again. “She can sleep in my bed. Margaery, can you walk Arya home?”

Margaery nods, and Sansa makes a sound of protest. “I’ll come for you tomorrow morning, Sansa.”

Talisa is out the door, too. “I’ll get her some of my clothes.”

They all break away, and Sansa starts to feel the pull of sleep overtake her limbs. “I’m sorry, Theon,” Sansa says. “I’m such a princess.”

“Hey, it’s okay.” His voice is soft and deep, just barely penetrating the walls of sleep. “I mean, you are a princess, but you’re allowed to be. It’s just college fun. The real serious stuff starts on Monday.”

He takes her upstairs and lowers her into Robb’s bed, pulls off her Chucks, and then he moves to leave, but Sansa grabs the sleeve of his sweater. “Stay?”

“Okay.”

* * *

“I think I’ve got it,” Daenerys says, and she furrows her brow as she begins to remember. “House Mu, run by the Starks. Sorority is Kappa Theta Mu, called the Theta Mus, and fraternity is Psi Epsilon Mu. Their colors are silver and white, and they wear silver Chucks.”

“Good.” Missandei nods.

“House Kappa, run by the Lannisters. Sorority is Kappa Iota Gamma, or Kappa, and fraternity is Pi Kappa Epsilon, known as Pike. Colors are red and gold, and they wear red Chucks.”

Missandei yawns and leans back in bed. “Keep going.”

“House Delta, run by the Baratheons. Sorority is Delta Beta, known as DB, and fraternity is Delta Kappa Upsilon—”

“Epsilon. Delta Kappa Epsilon.”

“Right, because they’re called Deke. Colors are green and gold, and they wear green Chucks. Then House Sigma, ruled by the Tyrells. Sorority is Sigma Sigma Sigma, always called TriSig, fraternity is Sigma Chi, sometimes called Machi. Colors are green and pink, with pink Chucks.”

“Now House Martell,” Missandei says.

“Delta Omega Rho Nu, a gender neutral fraternity run by the Martells, with colors of orange and red, and they wear orange Chucks,” Daenerys recites. “Finally, House Theta Chi, ruled by the Greyjoys. Only a fraternity, called Tachi, except they have one female member, and she’s the president. Their colors are black and gold, and— does Yara Greyjoy have Chucks?”

“I believe she wears gold ones.” Missandei laughs quietly. “‘Tachi is on the rise,’ they say. The Greyjoys mean it, but everyone repeats it as a joke. They are stuck on the bottom tier.”

Daenerys stares up into the darkness. “And the tier system? What is that?”

“Well, in the eyes of a geed—”

“Sorry, what’s a geed?”

“A God Damn Independent, or GDI, someone not in Greek Life. In the eyes of a geed, the tier system is just an arbitrary way of saying which house is cooler, like a pyramid of popularity,” Missandei explains. “But for the Greeks, the tier system is _everything_. It gives them a value, a social standing in a hierarchy they built. It all revolves around Greekrank, this website that hosts all the information about Greek Life at KLU. The owners of the website are the Faceless, geeds known to infiltrate Greek parties in order to determine which house really is the best. What really influences the Faceless is the outcome of Greek Week.”

“Greek Week?” Daenerys asks.

“Sigma Chi’s charity games. Each day they host a competition which the houses participate in. One day is trivia, the next is field games, third is the dance competition, and finally, bowling.”

“Bowling?”

“Oh, yes,” Missandei says, excitement in her voice. “Of all the things, the Greeks go crazy over bowling. They’re usually all drunk, too, which makes it better. Whoever wins Greek week usually moves up a spot on the tier system, sometimes even coming out on top. The Lannisters won last year, and everyone was expecting Greekrank to show House Kappa at the top. There were protests when that wasn’t the case.”

Daenerys sighs. “This is crazy. All of this.”

“It is.”

They’re silent for quite a while, and Daenerys thinks about all that she’s learned, all the letters and colors and family names. Her family was once a power in the Greek system; she supposes they were at the top once or twice. That was all before they had squandered it away.

Missandei sounds like she’s asleep, but Daenerys still speaks out loud. “I forgot one. House Omega, run by the Targaryens. Sorority was Chi Omega, commonly called ChiO, fraternity was Omega Zeta Lambda. Colors were black and red, and they wore black Chucks with red laces, I suppose. I wonder if the Omegas were ever good at Greek Week.”

“The best,” Missandei mutters sleepily. “They were at the top of Greekrank every year for a century before they lost their charter.”

Daenerys closes her eyes and dreams of red and black.

_The best…_

* * *

Sansa wakes up still half in a dream, and her heart pounds as she’s wrenched out of it violently. She can’t swallow her mouth is so dry. She thinks about moving, and then feels a heavy ache in her limbs, like she’s run a marathon, so she doesn’t even try. Instead, she just cuddles further into bed. The sharpness of Robb’s cologne combines with the gentle crispness of the sea, and Sansa realizes that she’s wearing Theon’s tan sweater from the night before. It’s the first time since moving into college that Sansa feels at home.

“Theon?”

Sansa hears a groan, and then Theon’s honey blonde curls appear from below the bed. “Morning, pretty lady.” He’s shirtless, and Sansa notices that he’s gained muscle since the last time she saw him. He looks like a man now, rather than a lanky kid. It’s weird. “Did you black?”

She moves, finally, slowly, and rolls onto her stomach to look at him. “At the end, I think. Did I embarrass myself beyond belief?”

“No,” Theon says, “maybe only slightly. You aren’t a messy drunk, thankfully. Just went a little past your limit. It happens to the best of us, I swear.”

“I don’t even know how it happened.”

“It’s your first weekend of college. Things are different here, especially with drinking. You don’t have to worry about sobering up before you get home, and it’s not like you’re sneaking liquor from your parents’ bar. Punch is designed to get you drunk before you can even feel it.” Theon stretches and gets up. He goes to a dresser and takes one of Robb’s few non-Mu shirts, pulls it on. He’s so comfortable in Robb’s space, looks like he belongs there as he combs his hair with Robb’s brush before cleaning it out. Sansa misses Theon and his lopsided smile and hare-brained ideas. She misses Robb and Theon. “Want to talk about the Kappas before Robb gets back?”

Sansa groans and lets her face fall to the mattress. “I talked to Cersei and Jaime Lannister.”

“Jeez, how awful was it?”

“That’s the thing, Theon, it wasn’t.” Theon stops what he’s doing and turns to look at Sansa. “I mean, yeah, Cersei is _intense_ , but she’s beautiful and confident and put together. And Jaime!” She sits up, her excitement pushing her through the pain. “They are both just perfect, golden people. Cersei seemed interested in me, too, like the Lannisters are watching me. They want me, I can feel it.”

Theon crosses the room and sits on the edge of the mattress. “And is that something you want?”

Sansa contemplates, feeling the question in her heart, then nods. “I think so. I mean, it doesn’t even need to be the Kappas. Just thinking about having options makes me actually excited for recruitment.” Sansa bites her lip and looks at Theon, expecting to see confusion in his brow. “Does that make me a bad person?”

“Sansa.” Theon laughs. “It’s not that deep. I know you feel like your sorority is going to be the end all, be all, because gods know the Starks made you think that. Every damn family at this school is so wrapped up in their organizations and in this stupid game, and they lost sight of what it really is about so long ago, I’m not sure it’ll ever recover. Truly, the most important part of Greek Life is that you find a place and a people that make you happy, and even if you don’t, you make the best of it. Look at me.” Theon waves a hand towards Robb’s shirt. “I went Theta Chi because of some stupid allegiance I felt for my family’s house. Maybe I should have gone Psi Epsilon Mu, and it might’ve saved me from all the shit that happened with your family after, but that’s not what happened. And now I’m a Tachi, and I party with the Dornes and the Sigs and the Mus.”

“Same with Margaery.”

“Exactly. Margaery’s a TriSig and her best friend is a Lannister Pike, and she hangs with my Tachi sister and is close with Robb and Talisa and Jon. Hell, her brother’s dating a Deke on the low,” Theon says, smirking obnoxiously.

Sansa bounces on the mattress, itching for gossip. “Who?”

“Can’t tell you.”

“ _Theon_!” She swats him on the shoulder, repeatedly, until he relents.

“Fine, fine! It’s Renly Baratheon, now stop.”

“Wow,” Sansa says, “that’s piping hot tea.”

“What?”

“Don’t worry about it.” Sansa relaxes, and she suddenly feels a wave of nausea take over her stomach. It takes a few breaths for it to go away. “You understand, don’t you? I mean, you basically grew up in my house.”

Theon nods. “Ned Stark is more of a father to me than Balon Greyjoy is.”

“Exactly. You know the pressure we all had to grow up, go to KLU, and immediately rush House Mu. But it’s not what you wanted, and it’s not what I want, either.” Sansa closes her eyes and pictures the Kappa house, full of Kappa girls in their Kappa red, singing ritual songs and getting dressed for date functions together. “I want _more_. Arya is going to be a great Theta Mu, maybe it’ll even help her get close to mom. But that’s just not me.”

“I always knew you were going to be different, and that’s okay. Do what you have to do. But, Sans,” Theon says, and suddenly he’s the most serious Sansa has ever seen him, blue eyes narrowed. “Be careful with the Lannisters. Family really is everything to them, in more ways than one.”

The conversation is over when a knock comes at the door. Theon gets up to open it, and Sansa tries to comb her hair and make herself more presentable. She’s sure she’s a mess, but there really isn’t much she can do. Margaery steps around Theon, a pile of clothes in her hand.

“Talisa left these last night. Get dressed and I’ll walk you back to the Red Keep.” Margaery puts the clothes on the edge of the bed and looks at Theon. They both just stand there for a minute.

“I’m…” Theon looks at Sansa again, and it’s then that Sansa realizes he’s worried about leaving her. She nods. “I’m going to leave.”

Margaery puts her hand on his shoulder. “Brilliant idea, Greyjoy.”

The door closes behind him, and Sansa gets up and starts stripping. She isn’t sure if Margaery is looking at her, but she feels insecure. Her skin crawls with discomfort. It wasn’t enough that Sansa had made an ass out of herself on her first night out of college, but she had done it in front of _Margaery_ , this girl who had suddenly become someone she adored. Sansa quickly puts on Talisa’s shirt — it’s a grey Comfort Colors tee from her junior year formal. She’s given her underwear and a pair of leggings that are short on Sansa, as well, and Sansa slips them on. Robb has shopping bags still full and sitting in the corner of his room, so Sansa picks up one and dumps the contents into another before putting her clothes in it.

“Ready,” Sansa says, and Margaery tucks her phone into her pocket and leads the way out the door.

Margaery chats for a little as they walk, updating Sansa on some of the First Friday gossip; Yara Greyjoy got in another fight, Oberyn Martell was found on the quad in his underwear and a pair of sunglasses, Sandor Clegane’s geed brother, Gregor, tried to get into the Pike party and knocked out two brothers before leaving. Brienne Tarth, a DB, had to pull Renly Baratheon off of the DKE roof before he could fall and die on Storm’s End Street.

Apparently, it had been a tame weekend.

Sansa finds a moment of silence between them to gather her courage. “I’m sorry about last night. I was so sloppy, and you really shouldn’t have had to deal with me.”

“Don’t worry about it,” Margaery says. “Really, you weren’t that bad.”

“I could have gotten you in trouble.” Sansa feels tears burn at the back of her eyes just thinking about it.

Margaery waves a hand. “Like I said, I know how to get around the rules. Don’t take this as me encouraging you to black out every weekend, but you’re adorable when you’re drunk.”

Sansa smiles down at her feet, still clad in her white Chucks. They are shoes that she’ll cherish forever — they took her to her first college party, they saw her through her first black out, and they are on her feet when Margaery Tyrell first calls her adorable.

* * *

Daenerys sits down at a small table in the corner of the dining hall hoping for a moment of peace. Since arriving at King’s Landing University, she hasn’t been alone, not truly. Missandei is usually in the room, and when she isn’t, Daenerys can hear people talking in the hallway. The parlor is always crowded, the quad is full of students playing frisbee, and even the library is busy already. She just wants to be alone.

She has never been particularly lucky, and she certainly isn’t now. Viserys spots her as she takes a bite of sausage, and he runs to her table.

“Daenerys! Daenerys, where have you been, sweet sister? Did you get my text? How did it go with Drogo?”

Daenerys’ heart stops. The bite of sausage that she’s just had sits heavily in her stomach. “I… didn’t see him.”

Between moving in and orientation, Daenerys had completely forgotten to go to the Office of Student Activities and meet with Khal Drogo. She had been so wrapped up in trying to acclimate that Viserys had slipped her mind altogether. And now he sits in front of her, lilac eyes turning dark with every second.

“You had one job, Daenerys.” His voice is low, and it startles Daenerys even more. “All you needed to do was go to Khal Drogo’s office, bat your pretty little eyelashes and ask him to reinstate our charter. What are you good for if you can’t even do that?” He stands up and grabs her wrist, his fingernails cutting into her skin. She thinks she might be bleeding. “Go now, Daenerys, or I swear I’ll—”

A hand on his shoulder stops him. “Let her go.”

“What?” Viserys drops her wrist and whips around, and suddenly he’s facing a taller, older blonde man. Daenerys stands slowly and moves so she can see his face. It’s stern, and the wrinkled lines of his eyes are taut as he glares at Viserys.

“Should I call Campus Police, young lady?” the man asks, and Daenerys’ heart races. His voice is so strong and deep, but she can see the kindness in his eyes even as he hides it behind his stare.

“N-no, it’s okay. He’s my brother.”

Viserys scoffs. “Half brother.”

Daenerys drops her gaze to the floor. It’s another few moments of tension, and then Viserys’ feet are no longer in her view. She looks up and again sees that handsome face, now softened.

His blonde stubble pulls up with the corners of his mouth as he musters a smile. “Are you a freshman?”

Daenerys nods. “Yes. I’m Daenerys Tar— Stormborn, Daenerys Stormborn.”

“It is nice to meet you, Daenerys.” Daenerys loves the way his voice dances over the syllables of her name. He extends his hand for a shake. “I am Doctor Jorah Mormont, head of the history department.”

“Would you like to sit down, Doctor Mormont?” Daenerys asks, hoping to sound polite rather than overeager. His presence calms her more than anything else ever has.

Jorah shakes his head. “Please, call me Jorah. Apologies, but I must go. I have a meeting with the department to prepare for the first day. But, here.” He takes a pen from his pocket and reaches down to the table to snag a napkin from the holder. He scribbles a few words and a number. “This is my office. If your _half_ brother ever bothers you again, you come to me. Understand?”

“Thank you, Jorah.”

“I look forward to seeing you again, Daenerys Stormborn.” With a smile, he walks away, and leaves a wake of fresh cologne behind him.

Daenerys finishes her breakfast, but she mostly picks at it absently. Rather than focus on eating, she thinks about Viserys’ words and how much she really doesn’t want to see Khal Drogo. She’s too afraid of what Viserys will do if she doesn’t, so she musters as much resolve she can, takes her dishes to the return area, and then heads for the university center.

The Office of Student Activities is small and essentially empty. A receptionist’s desk is placed just inside the door, but it’s vacant. Daenerys peers around it and down a hallway full of closed doors, but for one on the end. She reads the words printed on it: DEAN OF STUDENT ACTIVITIES. She swallows, hoping it’ll quell the fear rising in her throat, and then goes to Khal Drogo’s office.

He sits at his desk, small glasses poised on his huge face, reading something on his computer. His desk covers the span of the room, leaving only a narrow area for someone to round it. Two guest chairs are placed on the other side of it. He looks up before Daenerys has a chance to knock and stares at her with his thick brows furrowed.

“Mr. Drogo?” Her voice is nearly a squeak.

He grumbles. “What do you want?”

“I’m here,” she says, taking two steps into the room, “to ask about a house charter.” Drogo takes the glasses from his face and tosses them onto the desk. He looks completely uninterested in her, but allows her to sit down in front of him. “It has come to my attention that House Omega doesn’t exist on this campus anymore. My brother and I were interested in having it reestablished. We contacted nationals, and they already extended a charter, so all we really need is your approval, if you’ll give it.” She looks up at him — truly looks up, because even sitting down, he towers over her. His arms flex beneath his shirt as her crosses his arms.

“And who are you, exactly?” he asks, looking her up and down. Suddenly she feels uncomfortable in the sundress she chose to wear.

“Daenerys Targaryen.”

Drogo laughs deeply, and Daenerys shakes. “The daughter of Daniella Stormborn and Aerys Targaryen, the last of the Omegas.” He gets up and squeezes past the edge of the desk as he speaks, goes to the door and closes it. “I was the same year as your mother, before she left. She was a beautiful girl, just like you. Had the pleasure of knowing her once or twice. The ChiOs had a reputation back then of being perfectly obedient, and Daniella was a ChiO, through and through. I wonder if she passed that on to you.”

Daenerys doesn’t like the way he’s looking at her even more. “I’m sorry, I don’t understand.” She does understand, though, and she wishes over and over again that he won’t do what she thinks he will.

“Come here, Daenerys. I want to show you something.” He types something on his computer and only looks at her again when she doesn’t move.

She can hear her heart pounding now rather than just feel it, and her fingers are beginning to numb. With a foggy head, she gets up from her chair and moves around the edge of the desk to stand next to him. A picture of her mother is on his computer screen. It’s old, definitely from when she was in college, and she looks just as Daenerys remembers her, absolutely gorgeous and kind.

Daenerys jumps when she feels Khal Drogo’s hand on her waist. He slides it around to her back and lower, then under the edge of her dress. She swallows thickly and tries to control her breathing.

“Mr. Drogo?”

“Do you want to be a ChiO, Daenerys?” he asks, his other hand moving under her dress as well. They both cup her backside, now. Daenerys nods. “Then you ought to start acting like one.”

Drogo grips her hips and pushes them against the desk, and she falls forward and supports herself on her forearms. He stands behind her, pulls her dress up and her underwear down, and Daenerys bites her tongue to keep from screaming.

**Author's Note:**

> Starks — Kappa Theta Mu (Theta Mu) and Psi Epsilon Mu (Mu); Mus, or House Stark; colors silver and white, silver chucks  
> Lannisters — Kappa Iota Gamma (Kappa) and Pi Kappa Epsilon (Pike); Kappas, or House Lannisters; colors red and gold, red chucks  
> Targaryen — Chi Omega (ChiO) and Omega Zeta Lambda (Omega); Omegas, or House Targaryen; colors red and black, black chucks  
> Baratheons — Delta Beta (DB) and Delta Kappa Epsilon (DKE); Deltas, or House Baratheon; colors green and gold, green chucks  
> Greyjoys — Theta Chi (Tachi), or House Greyjoy; colors black and gold, Yara has yellow chucks  
> Tyrells — Sigma Sigma Sigma (TriSig) and Sigma Chi (Machi); Sigs, or House Tyrell; colors green and pink, pink chucks  
> Night’s Watch — Sigma Nu (Sig Nu); colors black and black  
> Martells — Delta Omega Rho Nu (Dornes); House Martell, gender neutral; colors orange and red, orange chucks


End file.
